


Joey Gets It

by Parrot_Assbutt



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Gen, Mild Language, rated for crudeness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 22:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parrot_Assbutt/pseuds/Parrot_Assbutt
Summary: "This is justice, you sonuvabitch.”“Your idea of 'justice' is...creative, to say the least.”Some spoilers for Chapter Five at the end; read at your own discretion.





	Joey Gets It

Joey could have mistaken the creaking of the floorboards for the building settling as it usually did in the evening. But Joey knew better.

Sure enough, the creaking crescendoed into rhythmic footsteps, accompanied by the creaking of his office door.

“Mr. Drew,” came the voice, very Irish and  _ very angry _ . He didn’t need to face the door to know who it was.

“Shawn!” Joey greeted him jovially. “Have you managed to unfuck-up the merchandise?” He could almost hear the frustrated cracking of the man’s clenched fist. “Or have you come to set me free?”

“Oh no, this is  _ justice, you sonuvabitch _ .”

“Justice? Is that why you have me tied to my own chair and blindfolded?” More footsteps, and the sound of Shawn fiddling with something. “Now what, pray tell, do you plan on doing?”

“Oh, you’ll see, you sick bastard.”

“Language, please! We’re a family-friendly company after all!”

_ "Do family companies sacrifice their own employees to evil gods? _ ” He roared, slamming his hands down hard enough that Joey could feel the vibration.

“Mr. Flynn-- _ Shawn _ \--what slanderous rumors are they spreading about me now?”

“It was no slander! I found my way into Sammy’s ‘sanctuary’, I saw the pentagram around the toilet!”

“Pentagram? Shawn, what kind of Hollywood satanist do you take me for?”

“So you admit it!”

“I never said--”

_ "What kind of a man sacrifices his employee while they’re taking a shite? Answer me, Joey! _ ”

He had no answer; in retrospect, there was no way he could justify such a low move. Murdering people in the bathroom was something psychopaths did, and on the toilet no less!. At the very least, he hoped the man had a decent bowel movement in his last moments. A peculiar, acrid smell reached his nose, and he took the moment to derail the conversation.

“Is something burning?”

“What? Oh, yeah, it’s a hot glue gun.”

Joey cocked an eyebrow. “Dare I ask what exactly you plan on doing with that?”

Shawn let out a sardonic laugh. “You didn’t even have the decency to let my friend shit in peace. Now we’ll see how you like never shitting again!” And with that, he rammed the hot glue gun up Joey’s arsehole. Joey made a sound that could have been a poor imitation of a goose yodeling were it not for the surprise in his voice altering the pitch. He wagered Sammy would’ve been impressed he could hit that note. Unfortunately, Sammy was a little too dead to have an opinion.

“I’ve gotta say, your idea of ‘justice’ is...creative, to say the least.” Shawn didn’t reply for several minutes.

“Shawn?”

“I don’t know what I expected from you, but this is just disappointing now.”

“Are you going to let me go now?”

“Fuck that, man, I’m out.”

“Dammit Shawn, I’m sacrificing you next!”

Shawn responded by slamming the door behind him.

 

Joey came out of his office some time later, with a noticeable limp. No one questioned it.

 

* * *

 

“So you see, Henry, that’s why I’ve brought you here.”

Henry blinked, taking several moments to process what he’d just heard. “Let me get this straight: you invited me back to the workshop and trapped me in a hellish time loop of dead cartoons...because Shawn glued your anus shut?”

“That’s correct. I have not shit in thirty-some years.”

Henry spluttered incredulously. _ "What do I have to do with any of that? _ ”

“Oh, I just blamed you for it, like usual.”

Henry gave him a dead stare.

“Door’s on your left.” Joey offered, realizing he wasn’t going to get anything else out of the conversation.

 

Henry turned and left without a word. It took him just a little bit too long to realize that he had not, in fact, gone through the front door. Rather, the door had been a bit of a weasel, and led him back to that godforsaken studio. His frustrated cries could have woken a sleeping god; however, Joey was too busy ignoring him to hear it. Below the studio, however, someone did.

“Milord? Have you come to set us free?”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a conversation with my sister while working on a BATIM cosplay. I really don't have an excuse for this.


End file.
